


Ambition

by CavannaRose



Series: Jeanne Sadler, Agent of HYDRA [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Alpha Flight, Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hydra (Marvel), oc fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:49:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5982015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A devoted HYDRA agent's ambition can only be stopped by her own past, or maybe not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

HYDRA was an interesting organization. The various degrees of fervency within the ranks was always something that Jeanne Sadler liked to sit back and consider. She was good at picking out those whose devotion was weak, those that would crumble under the pressures that came down from command. They were her stepping stones.   
  
She also was good at weeding out the infiltrators. The fact that there still were people who thought they could weasel into HYDRA and take it down from the inside... well that was laughable. The beast of many heads was far too strong, and it would rise again and again until it finally gripped victory in it's slavering jaws.   
  
And where did Jeanne fit in all this? She planned to ride that beast all the way to victory. She had that light inside her, the passion of the true believer. Might made right, and HYDRA held all the power from where she could see it. She was a good agent. Quick. Decisive. Efficient. With very few outside ties, she had been molded into a perfect weapon for HYDRA's glory. Deadly weapons accuracy and brutal hand to hand combat, combined with a passion for code cracking had earned her more than a few promotions.   
  
The only crack in her perfect agent shell was her affection for a certain other agent. If pressed, she'd admit to the fondness, he was her friend after all, and you didn't turn your back on your friends. She didn't see it as detriment though. He too worked for HYDRA, so it only wrapped her tighter within the organization's embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

Jeanne was beyond pissed off. She stalked through the halls of the HYDRA compound, uncaring as to the lesser peons who were shoved aside in her progress. Someone had been spreading rumours, and now she was facing an inquiry. Fucking shiteheads. Who had heard? Where had they heard? She would personally hunt them down and skin them alive. She had a blade just perfect for the job. Stopping in front of her Commander's office she paused, smoothing down her thick , black hair, wiping all expression from her face. She rapped briskly on the door, waiting at attention until she was allowed entrance. She stepped inside, staring at a space slightly above her Commander's head as he sat at the desk, perusing several files. Finally the man cleared his throat.  
  
"There have been some interesting aspersions cast upon your background, Ms Sadler, I assume you are aware?"  
  
She nodded, briefly, but did not lower her gaze. She was a soldier of HYDRA damnit. Even they could not break her. "I have never disguised any part of my history from HYDRA, Commander. It would have taken very little to change my name."  
  
A low chuckle escaped the man, he had always been fond of the violent and aggressively ambitious young woman. "True enough. There is quite a bit of metahuman DNA in your family, have you shown any of these traits?"  
  
Embarrassed, she held strong. Poise and gaze never wavering. "I am more durable, agile and have greater speed than many others of my rank. I have not utilized these abilities to their full extent in training, but have on the field, to further the goals and reach of HYDRA."   
  
Damnit, her voice had cracked on the last there. She had worked so hard, she did NOT want to throw it all away here. She turned her gaze to her commanding officer, the man who had guided her rise within the organization since almost the beginning. He put down the files in his hand, one labelled PUCK, the other MAJOR MAPLELEAF.   
  
"It's funny... We'd always heard that they'd had a son, not a daughter. Apparently even our Intel can be wrong." He folded his hands in front of him. "You have been an exemplary soldier, continue to do so, and reconditioning will not be necessary. Seeing as the persons of interest you were linked to are all dead, I see no further need for questioning. You are dismissed."  
  
Jeanne snapped off a salute, pivoted and marched out the door, making it all the way to her own chambers before collapsing, taking deep, calming breaths. She hated that the secret was out, though she had never tried to hide it. Her shame... there for all to see. She'd kill anyone else who brought it up. See if she didn't.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jeanne allowed a smile to cross her face. Finally an assignment worthy of her. Someone in power had noticed her devotion to HYDRA, her work ethic, the fierceness with which she attended to her training. Strapping on her gear, blades and guns at easy access, and the regulation HYDRA soldier armour, she eyed herself in the mirror of her small cell. She looked like a hunter, a force for glory. Her parents, weak as they were, would likely weep to see her standing where she was today. With another grim smile she set off to track down her prey. 

Perhaps it was only an observe and report mission, but if the Captain was vigilant, the chance for an altercation was always present. Tracking him down was easy, Steve Rogers was not a sneaky, nor a private man. The trick was to be unobtrusive. Search for weaknesses, draw him into a situation where she could pit herself against the nationalistic defender and truly prove her worth. Striding through the compound halls she moved to the hangar, picking through the options until she found a sleek motorcycle that matched her mood. Mounting up she was soon cruising down the highway, in search of a star spangled sucker.

While she cruised through the traffic, Jeanne had a computer program running on her visor, seeking out the location of the thawed hero. Halfway through the city, the alert went off, and a map appeared in the corner of her vision, guiding her to where he was located. The place was unfamiliar to the Canadian transplant, but that was of little matter. Soon she had pulled up just across the park from the Smithsonian. Moving quietly she snuck around the back of the Museum of Natural History, scaling the wall all the way to the roof. 

She crouched on the roof, visor acting as binoculars as she scanned the crowds for the figure that was so engraved in her mind. Every member of HYDRA worth their salt could identify him by sight. There. The toy soldier was seated in the park, talking to a pair of children. A sneer crossed her face. Such a cliche. As if anyone really bought that good old boy routine. Anyone trying to sell it as hard as the Captain was clearly hiding something in Jeanne's book. She hunkered down a little lower, settling in to observe.

She watches the hero's interactions with the children, her face twisted into a frown of disgust behind the visor. He painted a lovely fantasy, this man out of time. No one was that good, that patient. There was something wrong with him, she just knew it, and she would discover that crack in his perfect armor for the glory of HYDRA. As the children left she pulled out her sniper rifle, sighting on the captain with the scope. She couldn't understand why this was simply an observe and report mission. It would be so simple. He was alone, unprotected. She was an excellent shot, all it would take was a squeeze of the trigger and this one problem would disappear. Maybe she should take the initiative. It was unlikely she would have to beg forgiveness for too long if she removed this particular thorn from HYDRA's side. So caught up in her own private reverie, she didn't notice the way the sun caught on her scope.

Jeanne swore when Rogers noticed and began to verbally disperse the crowd. What a rookie mistake, letting herself get distracted and catching the light. As the Star Spangled Sucker caused panic amidst the crowds in the park, she briskly but carefully disassembled her sniper rifle, tucking all the various pieces away within the necessary pouches on her gear. The rig was expensive and she would face the supersoldier before she would risk the weapon. Finally she drew her twin pistols and headed for the stairs. She would not make this easy for the Avenger by avoiding the crowds. What did she care if a few civilians got in the way? Nothing, that was what. Keeping the pistols close she moved through the top floor of the Natural History Museum, keeping the unsuspecting civilians in sight as Captain America emerged from the stairwell. He'd found a gun somewhere, his shield nowhere in sight. He lowered the weapon, sighting on Jeanne. "Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to disarm."

With a low chuckle and a flippant toss of her head, Jeanne aimed her own weapons at the Great American Hero, a smile tugging her lips upward beneath the visor. "Oh come now, tin soldier. We all know that you won't be shooting me. Not until I actually do something _bad_. You've got that pesky conscience along for the ride, while I prudently left mine at home." She swings one arm around, setting her sights on one of the fleeing civilians, causing the old man to halt in his tracks, eyes wide. "Just wait here a minute, grandpa, I hear that Uncle Sam's favourite son here likes an audience when he's grandstanding, I'd hate for him to waste one of his sermons for just little old me." Flicking the safety off of each of her weapons, she clucks her tongue. "What do you think, Super Spandex, are you willing to shoot me just in case I might actually be willing to shoot this old guy?"


	4. Chapter 4

Jeanne grinned, the expression wolfish when painted across her sharp features. "What's wrong, tin soldier? Don't you want to play? You seemed to be having so much fun with the children and their games." Though her agility and speed were beyond that of the average person due to her peculiar parentage, she was fairly certain the super soldier was a match.

Still, if he shot her it wouldn't be the first bullet she'd ever taken, and she really was hoping for a bit of fun. Lightning fast she shot at the old man, barely winging him before tossing her pistol directly at Rogers, turning on her heel, and taking off at a dead run.

Jeanne stumbled, Cap's shot winging her shoulder as she ran. Honestly, she couldn't believe the hero had actually taken the shot. She'd have to readjust her conceptions of the man. He had , on the other hand, earned her grudging respect. Not many could catch her with a bullet.

Hitting the emergency exit stairs, Jeanne placed a hand on the railing and heaved herself over it, allowing herself to drop several floor. She'd already forgotten the bullet wound in her shoulder, reaching out to catch herself on the banister, and wrenching the injury. She let out a startled yelp of pain, releasing the rail and dropping the last dozen or so feet to the bottom floor of the museum. Despite her HYDRA training, it took her a few moments to recover her breath and her wits, damaged arm now hanging uselessly at her side as she drew her secondary sidearm and aimed above her where she expected to see the American hero emerge from.

The super soldier was relentless in his pursuit, earning himself another check mark in Jeanne's column of worthy adversaries. Unfortunately for her, at this moment he was pursuing her, and she wished that perhaps he was just a tad less devoted. She followed his trail down the floors, hand steady on the gun despite her injured shoulder making her twinge.

"Listen here, freezer pop, if you think I'm going to allow you to place me under arrest, you are a greater fool than even I could have guessed." Banter wasn't her strong point, but it clearly wasn't his either. Drawing her brows tight she sighted, aiming a quick pair of shots at the man in blue. She had to slow him down in order to make her getaway.

Despite missing her target with the first shot, Jeanne didn't let it phase her, taking her second with more care and being rewarded with the brilliant burst of red across the man's shoulder. It was a victory, in her mind, once more spreading that darkly pleased smile across her face. Perhaps she had a few darker tendencies, but her pleasure was more in a job done well than in inflicting pain. Just like Rogers himself, she was a good soldier. They just happened to be on opposite sides.

She was shocked when Cap raised his weapon once more, training his aim somewhere that would give her a lot more grief than a winged shoulder. Apparently she had gotten to the thawed hero. Perhaps it was her senseless attack on civilians, perhaps her information about his inability to make the final call was false. If so, she had a few choice words for her superiors... if she made it out of this still breathing.

The mission before all else. Failure was not an option. She barked out a laugh, pain and tension making the sound rough and bitter. "You seem to have a misunderstanding of my motivation, tin soldier. I'm not afraid of you or your borrowed pistol. Hail HYDRA." Taking a wild shot at Rogers, she whirled around, kicking the door out of the stairwell open and darting through it as quickly as her enhanced abilities would permit. She would already face repercussions for being sighted and injured, she did not want to add being captured to her list of sins.


	5. Chapter 5

She didn't pause to check, but from the sounds behind her, Jeanne was fairly certain the Popsicle had taken another hit. Hopefully that would further throw off his aim, which, for a man that rarely used guns, was far better than she wanted it to be. Her own injured wing was screaming bloody murder as she ran, each jostle a sharp reminder that this had NOT been in her mission parametres. The brass back at base was going to ring her a new one, she'd be lucky of she wasn't demoted back down to fucking cleanup duty.

The sound of the Captain crashing through the door behind her only urged Jeanne faster, tapping into the swiftly depleting reserves of energy she had. Sure she was faster than the average person, but the bloody Hero behind her was just as enhanced as she was, through whatever program the Americans had cooked up. Trust the USA to hound the shite out of those born with the abilities naturally, and then create their own. Her HYDRA enforced rage echoed bitterly in her chest as the soldier took shots at her.

She jumped, dodging the first shot, but coming down in just the wrong place so the tin soldier's second shot blasted through her left calf. It was a strange sensation, the fiery parting of flesh, then that little ping, more felt than heard, as the bullet ricocheted off her fibula, embedding somewhere in the meaty muscle. Jeanne stumbled, cursing loudly as she felt her leg start to give out. The shock and pain were just that little bit too much, and she dropped, all of her combat training mustering inside her to allow her to roll with the fall, further testing the injury to her shoulder before she struggled to her feet.

She had three bullets left in the clip, and her bike was maybe a hundred feet away, through the doors and across the road. The real question was, could she get to it before he got to her? Aiming her gun at the soldier, she tested her weight on the injured leg, wincing visibly. The chances were... slim at the most optimistic. Damn the boy scout for not being so tried and true as she was informed. If she was captured now, her illustrious career amidst the vaunted echelons of HYDRA was pretty much over.

"No closer, Captain Defrost, or I swear to all that I hold holy I will shoot you right through those pretty blue eyes of yours."


	6. Chapter 6

This situation was quickly spinning out of control. Clearly HYDRA's information on the star-spangled Captain was outdated at the best, blatantly incorrect at the worst. The fleeting thought crossed Jeanne's mind that perhaps that was why this had been a recon mission in the first place, and she inwardly winced. She had messed up. She had overstepped the directives handed down by her superiors, and now she was practically riddled with bloody bullet holes and was facing the American icon in an old style Western standoff. She did not want to be herself when the Colonel found out.

Grimacing she tested her shot calf again. Making it anywhere on that wasn't going to happen fast. focused on keeping her pistol steady, the bullet wound in her shoulder desperately trying to shake her aim. Her own temper flashed as the supposed champion of justice leveled a threat at her. Jeanne never handled threats well.

"You say I won't come out of here alive if I pull the trigger, Captain. Perhaps that is true, but if my aim is half as good as I've been trained to be, neither will you. HYDRA doesn't wish you dead quite yet, but if I'm going out, taking you with me won't earn my corpse any enemies back home. The only way we both walk out of here alive, is if I walk out of here now. Do you catch my drift?"


	7. Chapter 7

The good little soldier kept up his barrage of overly reasonable nonsense. As if she could simply put down her weapon. They were at an impasse, for certain, but Jeanne didn't intend to be the one who gave in. She had bullets in her gun and a fire inside that this setback only made burn brighter. He didn't understand. If she got caught now, that was it. An end to her illustrious career in the ranks of HYDRA. As it was she was likely to face demotion, a hearing, and any manner of reprimands. She'd gone off-mission, and she'd been sloppy. All of it a black mark against her. Just when she was landing the good missions too.

She watched a security guard come around the corner, gun out, moving up to what? Box her in? The poor idiot was playing perfectly into her hand, giving her another opportunity. He, too, demanded she disarm herself. Honestly, she was getting tired of hearing that statement belaboured over and over again. Death on a mission was always more forgivable than returning a failure. That was just how things worked. Maybe it was about time she tested just how much more durable than the average person her parent's mutations had left her.

"Perhaps, American, you're not willing to die for your cause, but I am. Perhaps your conviction has faded since you first enlisted, but my life and loyalty are not up for debate. Just know, you could have stopped what comes next, but you had too much pride to just let me walk away. Hail HYDRA." She pivoted, shooting her last three bullets rapid fire into the security guard, two in the chest, one in the end, full out execution style. Let the hero know he had permitted the man to die, that it was all his fault.

Stumbling, but still moving faster than the average human without her or the Captain's gifts would manage even uninjured, she made a beeline for her bike. Every step was agony, and sweat coated her brow. Who knew if she would make it? Maybe that calf would give out, or maybe the boy scout would shoot her in the bloody back, who knew for certain?


	8. Chapter 8

The hero's cry of protest was like music to her ears. She had suspected his soft heart would aid her escape, and felt vindicated to be proven correct in that assumption. The security guard's death mattered very little to Jeanne. He was incidental, inconsequential. Despite the pain from her injuries, she made it to her bike, stumbling a few times. She pulled on her helmet, mounting the bike on her second attempt, the first having put too much strain on her calf.

She wouldn't be able to ride far in her condition, that was without question. She needed a place to lay low and lick her wounds, somewhere that the patriotic popsicle wouldn't come poking his nose around anytime soon. Hopefully he'd spend enough time brooding over the dead man she'd neatly dropped at his feet that she'd get a reasonable lead, enough to shake him off her trail. Revving the engine of the motorcycle, trying not to wince as the vibrations tear at the edges of the open wounds in her calf and shoulder, she tears away from the curb, speeding towards the freeway without a second glance backwards.

As she drives, weaving in and out between the cars, she mentally considers the surrounding area, weighing the options for hidey holes. Where wouldn't the star-spangled sucker come poking his nose in to search her out? Taking the ramp onto the main highway, the throbbing hole in her leg screaming a protest, she regretted choosing the smaller conveyance over a car. It certainly wasn't the least physically demanding activity one could pursue when dusted with almost as many holes as a block of swiss cheese at the budget grocery store.

Passing two interchanges, she pulled off at the third, looking for the closest motel with a vacancy sign. The first place was completely unacceptable, even on the run she had standards. She was HYDRA, not some common crook. She did find a reasonably clean looking place, one that accepted cash but didn't rent rooms by the hour. She glared sullenly at the desk girl, making it clear with just her eyes and the set of her jaw that questions would not be tolerated. She cupped the keycard in one hand, casting one last glance over the parking lot before moving towards her room.

She'd get herself patched up as best as possible, though stitching her own shoulder was going to be a bitch and a half. Perhaps she'd get really lucky and the frozen freak with a shield would give her enough of a reprieve that she could take a nap, and reformulate her plan of action.


End file.
